Latin Heat
by Sharona1981
Summary: Alberto Del Rio is not Sharona's favourite person, to say the least-but when he tries to win her, will she fall for the Essence Of Excellence? Better summary within. ADR/OC. features my OC, Sharona Vincezi.
1. Chapter 1

Latin Heat

**I know Alberto Del Rio is not the favourite of a lot of people, and since he turned heel again, I've resumed loving to hate his character. However, after seeing several interviews with Alberto Rodriguez, he seems to be a lovely, genuine guy in real life, and I found myself thinking that, with the strength of a good woman, the character could change for the better.**

**This is obviously an AU-Sharona is not, nor has ever been, with Sheamus. It will also be quite short-a three shot, at the most. I wanted to explore Sharona's Latin roots (her mother is Puerto Rican) a little bit more, and what better way to do it than pair her with a certain handsome Mexican? : ) For any readers who are unfamiliar with my OC, check out my previous Sharona/Sheamus stories. I will be using a few Spanish phrases (thanks to google translate) but no translations-more fun that way. : )**

**SUMMARY: Sharona Vincenzi is dubious about Alberto Del Rio's intentions when he shows an interest in her-but as they gradually become closer, and Sharona finds herself falling in love, is it possible that the 'Essence Of Excellence' 's feelings are genuine? Timeline, late 2012, following Alberto's face turn and the beginning of his feud with the Big Show. Rated for smut later. **

**DISCLAIMER: I only own Sharona. To be honest, I wouldn't mind owning a pretty man like Alberto, so I could look at him all the time. : )**

'_Si tú te vas  
te llevarás mi corazón  
y yo sin ti  
ya no sé por dónde ir_

Si tú te vas  
nunca te podré olvidar  
me quedo aquí  
sólo pensando en ti

Si tú te vas  
el dolor me comerá  
un día más  
no podré vivir sin ti…'

_**-' Si Tú Te Vas (If You Go), Enrique Iglesias**_

To say that Sharona, WWE Diva and seven-time Women's Champion, was doubtful about Alberto Del Rio's sudden apparent change of personality, was an understatement. She had known men just like him, men who believed that money could buy anything, or anyone. Men who believed that women were trophies, objects of little or no significance, whose sole purpose was to massage their massive egos.

Everybody seemed to have conveniently forgotten that not very long ago, Del Rio was calling everybody in his immediate vicinity a 'peasant', and swanning around WWE like he owned the place. Now he was acting all contrite, and people just seemed to be buying it.

But Sharona wasn't. No _way_. Leopards didn't change their spots. Especially slimy, arrogant leopards like Alberto Del Rio. This whole thing was an act-Del Rio would soon grow tired of playing the hero, she was sure of it.

If she was honest too, she'd always felt sorry for the Mexican's ring announcer and general dogsbody, Ricardo Rodriguez. Del Rio had always treated that poor little man with disdain, disrespect, and often, outright cruelty. Now, he was acting like Ricardo was his best friend. What was worse, was that the guy accepted it, without question, as if forgetting that Del Rio had previously been a total asshole towards him.

Selective memory loss seemed to be contagious, where Alberto Del Rotten was concerned…

/

**January 28, 2013-the night after Royal Rumble**

It was pretty common knowledge that Paul Wight, The Big Show, was a jerk. Everybody knew that, and Sharona had been in WWE long enough to know that-so, while she had no great affection for Alberto Del Rio, to say the least, she actually took a lot of pleasure in knowing that he had outwitted and defeated Big Show in a Last Man Standing Match at the Royal Rumble, and retained his World Heavyweight Championship, by duct taping Show's legs to the ropes so he was unable to make the ten count. It was a pretty clever move, she had to admit.

So, pass on the chance to poke fun at Show about it? That wasn't her style.

She was in the ring, cutting a promo about her victory over AJ Lee at the Rumble-a hard won victory, since AJ, despite her psychotic personality, had improved no end as a wrestler; she had become a genuinely challenging opponent-when Big Show's music hit and he made his way out to the ring, a contemptuous expression on his face.

'Sharona', he began, after he climbed in the ring. 'Don't you ever get tired of listening to yourself talk? You come out here and you're like, 'I won my match, yay!' I mean, who _cares_ about your stupid match, anyway?!'

As the crowd bombarded him with boos, Sharona started to chuckle. Wight obviously had a bug up his butt about something-and she was pretty sure that bug's name was Alberto Del Rio.

'I get it, Show.' She responded, holding up a hand as if to deter him, knowing full well it would take a tow truck and maybe a crane for her to even _attempt _to deter Wight. 'You're mad at me for winning my match, because you _lost_ to Alberto Del Rio last night!'

The boos turned to cheers, as Wight's face turned crimson with barely suppressed fury. 'Let's get one thing straight,' he growled. 'I didn't lose! That Mexican jackass had to _cheat_ to beat me!'

With a snort, Sharona retorted, '_Cheat_? I'm sorry, was I watching the same match last night? You know as well as I do that there are no DQ's in a Last Man Standing match-and I vividly remember Del Rio beating you until you were unable to beat the ref's count.' Grinning wickedly, she added, 'Of course, your legs _were_ taped to the ropes at the time, so you weren't exactly in a position to stand. I'm no fan of Alberto's, but even I have to admit, that was pretty smart. Not to mention hilarious.'

She trailed off, taking a quick step back, as Wight lunged forward. 'You think it's _funny_?' He hissed, practically spitting in her face. 'Huh? You think it's _funny_?!'

At that, 'Realeza' came pounding over the arena, and the World Heavyweight Champion emerged from the back, looking angry and defiant, the title on his shoulder. He was wearing a charcoal coloured suit, and a pink shirt, with his trademark white scarf draped around his neck.

It wasn't that Sharona didn't think Del Rio was attractive-the man looked like a movie star, with his smouldering Latin looks and expensive suits. The man was undeniably gorgeous-_physically_. It was just that when he opened his mouth, a load of _mierda_ usually came out of it.

Alberto had a microphone in his hand, and he called out to The Big Show, 'Hey, look at the big tough _hombre_ in the ring, picking a fight with a _mujer_. It's me you have a problem with, Show, not Sharona!'

Once he got in the ring, he turned his attention to Sharona, smiling winningly at her. 'It's alright, _niña_.' He said gently. 'You can go now-this is our fight.'

Sharona arched an eyebrow at him, vaguely aware that this was the first time she'd ever been really close to him. He smelled of expensive cologne and an underlying scent that was undoubtedly male, and she knew, with absolute certainty, without even so much as touching him, that he would be an exciting and passionate lover. Well, he _was_ Latin, after all.

Uh, Shar? She mentally scolded herself. What happened to, '_He's an asshole and I can't stand him!_'?

Forcing her traitorous mind back to present business, she replied, staring Del Rio down, '_Espera un__segundo__-__Puedo manejar esto_.'

Alberto smiled approvingly at her use of his native tongue, while Wight scoffed at her.

'Oh, look Alberto,' he mocked. 'Sharona's trying to impress you by speaking Spanish. Maybe next she'll break a piñata, or start wearing a sombrero.'

Sharona had heard quite enough of this asshat's comments-she was very proud of her heritage, and despite her dislike for Del Rio, she knew he was as well.

'I'm not trying to impress anybody, you moron.' She snapped. 'I've been able to speak Spanish my whole life-my mother is Puerto Rican!' Addressing Del Rio, she muttered, '_Tienes que__perdonar a__él,__él es__simplemente estúpido_.'

Alberto spluttered laughter, while a now-enraged Wight yelled, 'Did you just call me _stupid_, you little bi-?'

He never finished his sentence-Alberto punched him right in the face, and Sharona was shocked to see that the Mexican native now looked just as angry.

'Didn't your mother teach you respect?' He shouted. 'You never call a woman a _perra_, never!'

Sharona was slightly impressed by Del Rio's defence of her, even though she didn't need protecting, had always been strong, independent. Of course, she still didn't buy his 'new man' act, but she appreciated his words.

'_Gracias_.' She murmured, then quickly left the ring-it was obvious that things between these two men were about to explode, and her presence hadn't exactly helped matters.

Her back was turned as she departed, so she didn't see Alberto staring after her for a long moment, a look of intense fascination on his face. '_De nada, __embeleso_.' He murmured…

**NEXT: A smitten Alberto tries to woo Sharona-but is he as lovestruck as he seems? And a dance ignites a fire that seems unquenchable. **

**Please R&R! **** Thank you! **

**Ellen**.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

**I have a feeling that this story hasn't proven to very popular, so I'm not too sure about continuing it, but for now, I'll keep going. If I do get more reviews, this story may turn out longer than I initially anticipated. I will be returning to my Sheamus/Sharona stories in the future but for now, the inspiration just isn't there.**

'_What would you do to get to me?  
What would you say to have your way?  
Would you give up, or try again,  
If I hesitate to let you win?  
Would you be yourself, or play your role,  
Tell all the boys, or keep it low?  
If I say no, would you turn away,  
Or play me off, or would you stay?_

_If at first you don't succeed,  
Dust yourself off and try again-  
You can dust it off and try again…'_

_-__**Aaliyah, 'Try Again**__'_

/

Alberto had always been aware of who Sharona was, knew that, like him, she had worked in Mexico before coming to WWE. He had always thought she was beautiful-but up to now, he had never had the opportunity to get close to her. She had always seemed a little aloof, a little wary-and he was very much aware that she disliked him.

He wondered what it would take to change her mind.

He had never been short of female admirers-if it was not his looks that had them flocking to his side, it was the knowledge that he was wealthy. He knew that really, none of them were interested in him, but in what he was prepared to spend on them.

But somehow, he knew Sharona was different. He didn't know much about her background, only that she was from the Bronx and was of Latin descent, and obviously, could speak fluent Spanish. However, he knew that she had not come from money, to say the least. She had always seemed disdainful of his affluence, rather than attracted to it-which fascinated him no end.

_She_ fascinated him…

/

'I don't know-I think he's taken a shine to you.'

Kaitlyn had a smile on her face as she spoke, and Sharona glared at her. Ever since what had gone down last week with Del Rio and The Big Show, she seemed to be insisting that the Mexican was attracted to her. Which was utterly ridiculous. She doubted she was Del Rio's type-for one thing, she didn't fawn over him like he was the greatest thing ever. She was certainly not interested in his money or his fancy cars.

Or _him_.

'_Please_,' she retorted. 'He's not interested in me. I'm not exactly the kind of woman he's used to.'

'Hmmm,' Kaitlyn mused, grinning now. 'Could be part of the attraction. And you never said you weren't interested in _him_.'

'I'm not.' Sharona replied, quickly-too quickly, judging by her friend's knowing expression, and she added with a sigh, 'Come _on_, Katie-the guy's full of crap. All of a sudden, he's acting like he's turned over a new leaf, like he's a nice guy. Please.'

Kaitlyn shrugged. 'People can change, Shar.' She told her. 'Maybe he's realized that being arrogant and pompous doesn't get him anywhere.'

Sharona rolled her eyes. 'C'mon, girl.' She protested. 'Far as I can tell, he's still arrogant and pompous-he's just hiding it well. For now.'

The 'Hybrid Diva' smirked. 'So, if he asked you out right now, you'd say no, huh?' She enquired.

To her surprise, Sharona actually hesitated in her answer. There was no denying that Alberto was devilishly handsome, but for her, that wasn't quite enough. She needed a man who would treat her right, who would be faithful and gentle-and preferably, not turn into a raving nutjob and almost kill her.

God, Kane was nothing like Del Rio, though-he wasn't conventionally handsome, he wasn't rich, or stylish. What he _was_, unfortunately, was mentally unstable-and she knew she was better off without him.

Besides, they'd broken up almost ten years ago-she'd more than moved on from that.

But, go out with someone like Alberto? He'd probably bore her to tears.

'He's not my type, honey.' She finally replied. 'He'd probably do nothing but talk about himself all damn night.'

Kaitlyn was just about to reply, when there was a knock on the locker-room door. The two girls exchanged a look, and then Sharona got to her feet to open it.

Ricardo Rodriguez was standing there, smiling ingratiatingly, wielding a massive bouquet of yellow roses, and off Sharona's puzzled look, he bowed to her.

'_Buenas tardes__, señora_.' He greeted the astonished Diva. '_Mi amigo__Alberto__Del Rio__le envía__estas flores__y…_'

He got no further-Sharona held up a hand, and Ricardo trailed off, now eyeing her nervously.

'Is there something wrong with his legs?' She demanded, and now Ricardo looked puzzled.

'Uh…no, Miss Sharona.' He responded. 'Why?'

Leaning closer, she told him, 'In that case, you tell your _friend _that if he wants to give me flowers, he can give them to me himself.'

Without waiting for a reply, she closed the door, and turned to Kaitlyn, who was giggling helplessly. Sharona couldn't help but grin herself.

'Can you believe the _nerve_ of that guy?' She exclaimed. 'Sending that poor schmuck to do his dirty work for him. He's probably never personally given a woman flowers in his life!'

When Kaitlyn finally stopped giggling, she gasped, 'I cannot _believe_ you just did that! He's gonna be _so_ mad!'

'Let him be.' Sharona replied firmly. 'He needs to learn that if he wants a woman's respect, he needs to do the wooing himself.'

Kaitlyn's eyes widened. 'Wait,' she said slowly. 'Does that mean you _want _Alberto to woo you?'

Sharona was about to reply, when she realized that to respond in the negative would be a lie. The flowers had been beautiful-even if he hadn't had the balls to come here and give them to her himself-and it had been far, far too long since a man had made the remotest attempt to do any wooing where she was concerned.

The problem was, she didn't trust the guy. Even if she did find him physically attractive.

'I don't know.' She finally replied honestly. 'I mean, I don't even like the guy, not really, but…' Blushing furiously, she conceded, 'He _is_ pretty hot.'

Kaitlyn grinned. 'You don't need to tell me.' She said. 'Antonio Banderas has _nothing_ on that guy. And you don't have to _marry_ him, Shar. Take his flowers, take his money if you want-there's no law against having fun.'

Which was all well and good, Sharona mused-except she had never been a gold-digger. Whether she liked Alberto or not, she could never date him for his money. It was a cheap, tacky thing to do, and that wasn't the kind of woman she was.

But, maybe she should have taken the damn flowers-she doubted now that Del Rio would deliver them himself…

/

Alberto was shocked, to say the least, when Ricardo returned to his locker-room with the roses still clasped in his hands. Somehow, he had felt that Sharona wouldn't appreciate red roses-too clichéd-so he had selected yellow roses instead. He'd chosen them personally-hadn't she liked them?

'What happened?' He demanded, and smiling sheepishly, Ricardo replied, 'She said that if you want to give her flowers, you must give them to her yourself.'

He gaped at his friend and ring announcer for a moment, then a slow grin spread across his face.

He should have _known_.

'_Chica__obstinada_.' He muttered, then took the flowers out of Ricardo's hands, and added, '_Grazias, mi amigo_. I'll handle this.'…

/

Kaitlyn had a match coming up against her former best friend AJ, and as she got ready, Sharona continued to think about Alberto, not that she wanted to. She just couldn't understand why he had suddenly shown an interest in her. Granted, she was decent to look at, but she was from 'the wrong side of the tracks', as that corny line went. He was probably used to sophisticated women who hung on his every word-not a chick from Castle Hill who had a fiery temper and a bad attitude to go with it.

She wasn't his type-surely he could see that?

The knock on the door-the second tonight-interrupted her train of thought, which was probably fortunate, since it was about to descend into, '_But he's a hell of a sexy man and oh, he's probably __**amazing**__ in bed_' and other such R-rated notions.

She couldn't have been more astonished when she opened the door and found the object of her lurid musings standing there, holding the bouquet of roses out to her, wearing a wide grin. Instead of being angry, the guy actually looked pleased.

Had he been testing her? She thought. Had he sent Ricardo first to gauge her reaction?

'_Para usted_.' He held the flowers out to her, bowing slightly, and dazedly, she took them, the exquisite scent filling her nostrils immediately.

Damn him, how had he known she loved yellow roses?

'T-Thank you.' She cursed the sudden tremor in her voice, unsure as to whether it had anything to do with the overwhelming maleness of the man standing in front of her. He was wearing a cream suit that only served to accentuate his natural tan and deep brown eyes, the trademark white scarf offsetting the ensemble.

'_De nada_.' He replied smoothly, and she'd be damned if his eyes weren't twinkling, as if he knew the effect he was having on her, and was enjoying himself immensely.

Forcing herself to keep her voice steady, she said, 'So, you got the message then.'

If anything, his grin grew wider, showing off dimples and a perfect set of teeth. '_Si_.' He told her. 'I'm sorry, I should have come myself. Perhaps I was afraid that you would slam the door in my face. You do not seem to like me very much.'

She was honestly surprised by his candour, and actually couldn't speak for a moment. 'You've made it hard to like you, Alberto.' She finally said, quietly.

She was even more surprised when he actually looked a little abashed by her words. 'I know this.' He replied. 'But I am trying to change, to be a better man.' And then, before she could say anything, he added, 'I would like you to have dinner with me.'

Sharona had been afraid of this. She really didn't think she could do it, no matter how gorgeous she thought he was, no matter how sincerely sorry he seemed to be.

'I'm sorry.' She told him. 'The flowers are beautiful, really, but…I don't think that would be such a good idea.'

'Why not?' He seemed confused now, and Sharona felt mildly irritated. Probably wasn't used to being rejected.

'Look,' she said, more harshly, maybe, than she'd meant. 'I'm not your type, okay? You probably have beautiful women lining up to go out with you, but…I'm not one of those women. I'm not interested in your money, and I'm not sophisticated or…'

She stopped short, when Alberto laid a hand on her shoulder. The bolt of electricity that sizzled up her arm was incredible and she could only gape up at him like some kind of drooling fangirl, as he said softly, 'First of all, I don't have a type, _chica._ Also, you are as beautiful as any woman I have ever met. You do not think so?'

Sharona had no answer to that, so he continued, 'Look, if you do not want to, it's ok. But if you change your mind, you know where to find me.' Then, he bent, picked up her hand, the one that wasn't clutching a massive bunch of flowers, and pressed it gently to his lips.

'_Buenas noches,__señora hermosa_.' He murmured, and he was gone, leaving a speechless Sharona gazing after him…

**NEXT: Kaitlyn and Sharona hit a club-****but when a certain Mexican appears, a heated Latin dance leaves Sharona shaken-and a conversation makes her realize that maybe he has changed, after all. Please R&R! Thank you! : ) Ellen. **


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

**I wasn't sure about adding another chapter to be honest-Alberto really doesn't get much love, does he? : ) Anyway, I'm actually taking Spanish classes at the moment, so may not need google translate for much longer. : ) **

**As always, I have no beta, so any grammar mistakes are mine. Apologies. : ) **

'…_Other dancers may be on the floor, dear,_

_But my eyes will see only you. _

_Only you have that magic technique-_

_When we sway, I go weak._

_I can hear the sound of violins,_

_Long before it begins._

_Make me thrill as only you know how-_

_Sway me smooth, sway me now…_'

_**-'Sway' written by **__**Pablo Beltrán Ruiz, 1953 (the version I have in mind is the one by the Pussycat Dolls)**_

/

Sharona sincerely wished she hadn't told Kaitlyn about her little visit from a certain Mexican earlier, but of course, once her friend had returned to their locker-room after a hard-fought victory against AJ, she'd clocked the yellow roses, now stuck haphazardly in a bucket she'd found in the bathroom, and what the _hell_ was she supposed to do with fresh flowers when she travelled so much, anyway?

'Oh, girl, he _is_ into you!' She exclaimed, once Sharona had reluctantly admitted that yes, Alberto had personally delivered said roses. 'You realize how much pride he'd have had to swallow to actually come here himself, right?'

Sharona gave a non-committal grunt in response, unwilling to say anything remotely positive about Señor Del Rio or his pride or his impeccable taste in flowers and suits and cars.

_Damn_ him!

'They're just flowers, Katie.' She replied. 'It's not like he showed up with a fur coat dripping in diamonds or something.'

Kaitlyn snorted. 'Right.' She chuckled. 'Like you'd _wear_ a fur coat dripping in diamonds. You'd beat him with the damn thing first.'

Sharona grinned helplessly at her friend's succinct summation, but then frowned when she added, 'Did he say anything else?'

Heaving a sigh, Sharona told her, 'He asked me out to dinner. And before you ask, I said no.'

'Why?' Kaitlyn seemed genuinely confused, which only seemed to annoy Sharona further.

'Because he's arrogant and impossible and I don't trust him.' She snapped. 'Guys like him, they think they can wave a bunch of flowers in a girl's face, and they'll fall flat on their faces kissing his feet. But not me.'

Immediately, she felt guilty about her words-actually, Alberto had been nothing less than a gentleman when he'd turned up, and honestly, she was wondering if she'd done the right thing, refusing his request for a date.

But no way in _hell_ was she letting anybody else know that-not even her friend.

Seemingly resigned, Kaitlyn threw up her hands. 'Alright,' she ceded. 'You know what you're doing. How do you feel about going out tonight? I was talking to Zack Ryder earlier, and he knows this great little club not far from here, plays some great hip hop, even some Latin. It'd be fun!'

Sharona let out an amused groan. 'I swear, Zack would find a party in a cemetery.' She quipped-truthfully, she was rather fond of 'The Long Island Iced Z', he was a pretty cool guy, despite his colourful dress sense and quirkiness. 'Alright, why not?' She finally agreed. 'Sounds like a cool place.'…

/

As it turned out, the 'Boiler Room' _was_ a cool place-a renovated warehouse, the club had a massive dancefloor and a long, state-of-the-art bar, set in chrome and ebony. Kaitlyn and Sharona arrived first, spotting Zack and John Cena as thy arrived a few minutes later. It seemed, as the building quickly started to fill up with patrons, that it was going to be a busy night.

Sharona went up to the bar and ordered a Corona with a slice of lemon-her favourite drink stemming from her time in Mexico-for herself, and a vodka and Coke for Kaitlyn. As the girls sipped their drinks, Usher's 'Caught Up' started blaring over the sound system, and unconsciously, Sharona started to sway in time to the music.

Kaitlyn grinned. 'Feel like dancing already?' She had to shout to make herself heard.

'Later.' She replied. 'I need a little more Dutch courage first.'

About thirty minutes later, Kaitlyn went to the restroom, and as Sharona stood with her back to the dancefloor, thinking about nothing at all, she suddenly felt a presence at her elbow, and then, a terribly familiar voice murmured, 'You know, somehow, I thought you'd prefer tequila, _niña._'

Sharona's mouth dropped open, half in shock, half in horror, as she slowly turned.

It couldn't be, it couldn't be, it _couldn't_…

And yet, somehow it was. Alberto stood before her, one elbow on the bar, chin tucked under his hand, looking tormentingly casual out of his suit, wearing what she was sure were designer jeans, that seemed to mold to his lean, muscular legs in a way that was all too sexy, and a deceptively simple-looking blue shirt, that probably cost more than she made in a month.

'W-What are you _doing_ here?' She finally managed to splutter, and Alberto actually grinned, causing his eyes to crinkle playfully. He had completely thrown her off-balance, showing up here, looking he could have stepped off of a catwalk, instead of out of a wrestling ring.

'You look surprised to see me, Sharona.' He looked so damnably amused, it should have irritated her, but she was too busy checking him out, she realized to her horror.

Checking him _out_? That was a joke-she was pretty sure she was mentally _undressing_ the guy!

'I enjoy music as much as the next person.' He continued smoothly. 'And I know the owner.'

'I bet you do.' She muttered, but Alberto seemed totally oblivious to her almost completely non-verbal reaction to him. He probably thought his very appearance had stripped her of the power of speech. Which, actually, was closer to the truth than she would ever tell him.

Then, a Latin beat pounded through the speakers, and Sharona recognized the song as the Pussycat Dolls' version of 'Sway'. And she could scarcely believe it when Alberto, still smiling, extended his hand to her and softly asked, '¿_Quieres__bailar_?'

She gaped at him, scarcely able to believe what he'd just asked of her. Completely flustered now, she replied awkwardly, 'Uh, I…I can't dance.'

He snorted disbelievingly. 'A Latina who can't dance?' He scoffed. 'No such thing, _chica_.' Grinning, he added, 'Don't worry, I won't step on your feet or anything.'

Helplessly, Sharona finally allowed Alberto to lead her onto the dancefloor, vaguely aware that she was trembling. Okay, she was a decent dancer, but she hadn't danced with a man, _really_ danced with a man, in a long time.

But as the handsome Mexican took her in his arms, Sharona realized that the real reason she was trembling was because she was undeniably attracted to him. He was so incredibly _male_, with his olive skin and charming smile and expensive cologne. And strong fingers, she noted, as they gripped her waist.

Instinctively, she started to move with him, as they tangoed across the expansive floor, and as he spun her out of his arms and then smoothly back in, she was buffeted against his broad chest, and she glanced up at him, her heart pounding when she saw that Alberto was no longer smiling. His eyes looked even darker, if possible, and he seemed unable to tear his gaze from her.

'_Hermosa_.' He muttered, and his head dipped, just slightly, as if he were intending to kiss her, but then he was spinning her around the floor again, the moment all but forgotten. Sharona could see now that most people had vacated the dancefloor and were standing at the edge, watching them intently.

Meanwhile, Kaitlyn had returned from the rest room, and was staring across the floor at her friend and Alberto in silent shock. Shar would probably deny it until the cows came home, but they looked so…_familiar_ together, as if they had been dancing together forever.

They also looked incredibly _hot_ together.

A woman suddenly appeared at Kaitlyn's shoulder and asked, 'Do you know those two?' She nodded. 'Uh, yeah.' She responded. 'Well, I know Sharona. She's a friend of mine.'

The woman smiled knowingly. 'They make a very sexy couple, don't they?'

Kaitlyn's eyes widened, and she turned to the woman. 'Oh, no.' She protested. 'They're not a couple.'

Now it was the woman's turn to look shocked. 'Really?' She exclaimed, then, her smile returning, she added, 'Not _yet_, maybe.'

Sharona felt like she was going to go mad if this didn't end soon. It wasn't that she wasn't enjoying this-she was enjoying it _too much_. Moulded against Alberto's body like she belonged there, she now found herself wondering how his hands would feel without the barrier of clothing between them and her skin. And those kind of thoughts about this kind of man were far too dangerous.

It would, she mused, despite her initial dislike and mistrust of him, be _far_ too easy to fall for Alberto Del Rio. And she couldn't let that happen.

When the dance ended, and the cheering and applause finally faded, Sharona said, in a desperate attempt to lighten the mood, 'I didn't get this kind of pop when I won my first Women's Championship!'

Alberto chuckled for a moment, then his expression became serious and he asked, 'Can I talk to you for a moment, outside?'

She wanted to say no, to tell him that whatever he thought was happening between them was an illusion, that she felt nothing. But she couldn't refuse that face, damn him.

'I need to go and tell Kaitlyn.' She told him. 'I can't be too long.'

As she hurried over to Kaitlyn, she sighed when she saw her friend was grinning at her. 'Don't start.' She warned.

'Girl, that was _hot_.' Kaitlyn gasped, completely ignoring her warning, as usual. 'I seriously thought you two were gonna start making out!'

'He wants to talk to me outside.' Sharona said quietly. 'I won't be a minute.'

Kaitlyn arched an eyebrow at her, and she added, a little harshly, 'Don't worry, Katie-nothing's gonna happen.'

'That's just it, Shar.' Was her response. 'I think something _already_ happened.'…

When she finally joined Alberto outside, he was leaning against his car, the black Maserati Gran Turismo, which she loved-it was a magnificent piece of machinery.

He smiled as she approached. '_Es fresco__aquí_.' He murmured. '_Hacía mucho calor allí, no_?'

Sharona didn't know how to respond-was he referring to the general heat of the club, or the heat they'd just generated with that dance?

As if reading her mind, he slowly came towards her, his expression darkening slightly. 'Don't tell me you didn't feel that, _chica_. What happened back there.'

Feigning a nonchalance she definitely didn't feel, Sharona shrugged. 'It was just a dance.' She replied.

Alberto just stared at her, obviously unable to believe what he was hearing. 'You can't be serious.' He retorted. 'That was more than a _dance_, and you know it.'

She shook her head, defiant and wondering why she was bothering. She wasn't that good an actress-surely Alberto would see right through this?

'I don't know what to tell you.' She insisted. 'I mean, it was fun, but….that's _all_ it was. If you misunderstood somehow, then I'm sorry.'

Alberto frowned, and then, she was amazed to see a look of hurt cross his face.

Question was, had she hurt his feelings, or his _ego_?

'_Pues, lo siento_.' He said stiffly, bowing a little. 'I will not bother you again.'

And without a word, the Mexican aristocrat turned on his heel and walked back inside, leaving Sharona staring after him once again. He seemed genuinely wounded by her rejection, and not for the first time, she wondered if she hadn't made a terrible mistake…

/

**Next: Ricardo is attacked by The Big Show-and Alberto has a favour to ask of Sharona. Will she agree? Please R&R-thank you! Ellen.**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

**Thank you to all who reviewed-nice to know I'm not the only one who loves Alberto. :) Speaking of '**_**El Patron**_**', he doesn't feature very much in this chapter, it mostly centres on Ricardo & Sharona.**

Kaitlyn had seen Alberto re-enter the club, expression grim, lips pressed tightly together, and she sighed.

Obviously, _that_ little conversation hadn't gone too well.

When Sharona came back in, and walked straight up to her friend, Kaitlyn said, without preamble, 'Alberto looks pretty pissed. What happened?'

Sharona shrugged, unwilling to admit that what she had told the Mexican still bothered her. 'He thought there was something between us.' She replied dismissively. 'So I set him straight.'

Kaitlyn frowned. 'You _lied_ to him?' She said, looking and sounding puzzled. 'Why?'

Sharona recoiled, while wondering how her friend had figured that out. 'I didn't _lie_ to him.' She snapped. 'I don't feel anything for...'

'Shar...' Kaitlyn interrupted patiently. 'I saw you two out there-it was one of the hottest things I've ever seen. _So_ hot, in fact, that a woman I've never met came up to me and told me what a sexy couple you were.'

Sharona had no reply to that, not for several moments, at least. Of course she'd felt their connection on that dancefloor, of course she was attracted to him, but she was afraid that it was only physical, that beyond lust, they would tire of each other rather quickly.

She'd had casual relationships in the past, but she had a feeling that going to bed with Alberto would leave her a wreck. Physically _and_ emotionally, perhaps, if she wasn't careful.

Throwing up her hands, she finally ceded, 'He's too damn attractive for his own good, Katie. Getting involved with someone like that would be too big a risk.'…

/

**SmackDown!, The next week:**

Scheduled to defend her Women's Championship against Natalya, Sharona tried her very best to avoid Alberto backstage before her match. She noticed that he was wrestling Damien Sandow in a non-title match, and somehow, she felt convinced that the Mexican aristocrat would emerge victorious.

Big Show seemed to be keeping a low profile-probably because he'd been so embarrassed by Alberto and Ricardo outsmarting him in recent weeks, and Alberto's claiming of the World Heavyweight Championship.

She defeated Natalya by the skin of her teeth; the Canadian Diva was a third-generation wrestler, daughter of Jim Neidhart, and it showed-she was savvy, cunning and extremely talented, and Sharona had a great deal of professional respect for her. But nonetheless, she'd eked out a victory with a DDT and corkscrew plancha.

As she entered her locker-room, she saw Alberto striding confidently up the corridor, in gold trunks, a red scarf around his neck, his title belt, even though he wasn't defending it, strapped to his waist. She was surprised to see that Ricardo was not by his side, however, but she quickly surmised that he just wanted to keep his friend safe-after all, despite Big Show's conspicuous absence, she felt sure that he was still on the warpath, and Ricardo had been intimidated enough by that oversized bully.

Sharona wanted to wish him luck, but she knew that, first of all, Alberto Del Rio had probably never needed luck in his life, and secondly, after last week, the guy probably never wanted to speak to her again.

And she _hated_ that that bothered her so much.

She'd only just changed out of her ring gear, and was just settling down to watch Alberto wrestle Sandow, when she heard a resounding thud somewhere close to where her locker-room was, followed by a pleading voice, and then, very familiar yelling.

Big Show. Oh, _shit_.

Leapfrogging over the back of the couch, Sharona practically tore her locker-room door open as she burst out and up the corridor, praying she wasn't too late.

Alberto had left Ricardo backstage to try to keep him safe, a great idea in theory, perhaps, but leaving the announcer to his own devices was now clearly a terrible idea in reality.

Especially with Big Show around.

As she neared Alberto's dressing-room, she saw the big lug himself, Paul Wight, with one huge hand curled in the collar of Ricardo's dress shirt, lifting him right off the ground. She could see blood trickling from his hairline-it was clear that Wight had knocked him around-and just like that, her famous Latin temper ignited.

She saw Ricardo's eyes widen as she approached, and as he weakly struggled in Wight's iron grip, he gasped, 'It's ok, Señorita. Please, it's okay.'

Anger and sympathy battled for dominance inside her, as Wight slowly turned and sneered at her. 'You heard the little freak, Sharona.' He growled. 'This isn't your problem.'

With a low, humourless chuckle, Sharona put her hands on her hips, head tilted, then stood right between Wight and the target still dangling from the end of his massive fist.

'Now, when has that ever stopped me?' She enquired mockingly, then added, much more threateningly, 'Let go of him, Show. Unless you wanna pick a fight with a girl. And that would _really_ make you an asshole.'

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Ricardo gaping at her in utter shock and admiration, and she had to stifle a smile.

He was relatively new here, after all-he didn't know what she was really like. She'd been here ten and a half years-she wasn't afraid of anybody. Least of all Paul Wight, who obviously thought that attacking a defenceless-if really rather adorable-ring announcer made him a tough guy.

The more things changed, she mused, the more they stayed the same.

After glaring at Sharona for a moment, Wight finally released Ricardo, and he slid bonelessly to the floor, gasping for breath. Sticking a finger right in her face, the giant growled, 'This isn't over', before turning and walking off.

'I'll look forward to it!' She called after him, grinning, then, once he was gone, she turned her attention to Ricardo, slumped on the floor.

'You know,' she told him. 'For such a little guy, you sure are a magnet for trouble.'

Ricardo managed a weak smile, then got slowly to his feet, Sharona giving him a hand up. The bleeding at his hairline seemed to have stopped, but she could see a sizeable lump forming, and she knew he was going to need some ice, stat.

'_Eso fue_… _**muy**__ valiente_.' Ricardo breathed, voice filled with awe, and Sharona waved a hand at him, smiling, though she could feel herself blushing at his earnestness.

'That wasn't brave.' She retorted casually. 'I've known that douchebag a long time, and he knows damn well I'm not afraid of him. Come on-I'll get you some ice for your head.'

As they walked back to her locker-room, Sharona asked, 'So, I guess it was Alberto's idea to leave you back here, huh?'

Ricardo nodded. '_Si_. He replied. '_El Patron_, he felt it would be safer for me to remain back here.' Sighing dejectedly, he added, 'He couldn't have known this would happen.'

'No. No, I know that.' Sharona agreed that Alberto couldn't have known what would happen to his ring announcer, but couldn't help wondering how the hotheaded Latino would react when he discovered what _had_ happened.

Not very well, she imagined.

She guided Ricardo into her locker-room, then went to get some ice, which she used to soothe her knees, which often ached after a particularly gruelling match. When she returned and handed him the pack, he timidly thanked her and gingerly placed it to his head.

'I should return to Señor Del Rio's dressing-room.' He said hurriedly. 'When he returns from his match, he will be looking for me.'

'Let him look.' Sharona retorted firmly. 'I'm not letting you out of my sight. ¿_Com__prende_?'

Ricardo smiled slightly and nodded, and they settled back to watch Alberto defeat Sandow, as Sharona had been sure he would, and then, after a few moments of companionable silence, they heard a familiar voice in the near distance, shouting angrily in Spanish.

Seemed Alberto had _already_ found out what had happened.

Rolling her eyes, she cracked, 'Has he ever considered anger management therapy?' which actually earned her a chuckle from the announcer.

Getting to her feet, Sharona flung open her door and stepped outside, almost colliding with the furious-looking Mexican in the process.

Alberto looked like he was about to start shouting again, but as Sharona took a step back, hands held up and out in a placating manner, he exhaled deeply and seemed to visibly calm, if only slightly.

'Sharona.' He said gruffly. 'Something has happened to Ricardo. Have you seen-?'

'Yeah, I know.' She cut in, smiling. 'Big Show happened to him. He's in here, with me. I got him some ice for his head.'

Alberto's angry expression dissipated, replaced by one of confusion. 'You…_helped_ him?' He asked. 'Why?'

'It's called 'doing the right thing'.' She replied sharply, then waved him in.

Ricardo stood as soon as his employer entered the room, looking apologetic and guilty, much to Sharona's irritation. As far as she could tell, the poor guy had nothing to apologise for.

'_Lo siento, El Patron_.' The announcer said humbly. 'I didn't even see Big Show coming, I…'

He trailed off, but before Alberto could respond, Sharona quipped, grinning, 'Don't know how you could have missed him, honey-he's big and ugly enough!'

Alberto spun to face her, and, to her surprise, she saw that the Mexican was trying to suppress a grin of his own. Finally, he told Ricardo, 'You have nothing to be sorry for, _mi amigo_. If anything, it is I who is sorry, for not being there. Go back to my dressing-room, and find the trainer, get him to look at your head. I need to speak with Sharona for a moment.'

When Ricardo had left, Alberto slowly turned to give Sharona his full attention, and she waited, half-expecting a tirade. Instead, he said quietly, 'I don't understand.'

She couldn't resist; with an eyebrow arched, she asked, 'You don't understand how he could miss Big Show? No, me neither.'

Alberto did grin this time, and Sharona felt her heart lurch. When he grinned, it changed his whole face, made his deep brown eyes twinkle, made him look younger, somehow, and, if it was possible, even more handsome.

'No.' He retorted gently. 'I don't understand _you_.'

Sharona snorted. 'I get that a _lot_, trust me.' She responded, then, gesturing to the door Ricardo had just exited from, she continued, 'You don't understand why I helped him.'

Alberto suddenly looked uncharacteristically awkward, and he shook his head. 'After last week, I thought-'

'This isn't about _you_.' Sharona interrupted, her voice sharper than she'd meant. 'I like Ricardo, and Show's nothing but a bully, always has been. And if there's one thing I hate, it's a bully.' Then, a horrifying thought occurred to her and she exclaimed, 'Hang on, you just sent Ricardo back to your dressing-room-what if Show attacks him again?'

Alberto shook his head, his face darkening. 'The _perro_ has left.' He said harshly. 'He knew I'd be angry. He's a coward, a…'

All of a sudden, his anger seemed to deflate again, and he sat heavily on the couch. 'I should have been there…to protect him.' He murmured. 'I've failed him so many times before.'

'Hey.' Sharona chided gently, honestly surprised by this side of Alberto that she'd never seen before. 'You can't be in two places at once, man. If you'd brought him out there with you, chances are Show would have attacked him, anyway.'

'At least I would have been there.' Alberto replied, then he looked up at her, smiling softly, and Sharona felt her heart lurch again.

He _really_ needed to stop smiling at her like that, before she lost all her composure.

'_Gracias_.' He told her quietly. 'For helping my friend.'

Sharona waved off his gratitude, while inside, she was in turmoil. This wasn't the Alberto she'd known and loathed, the egotistical, self-absorbed, selfish man she'd once believed was the _real_ Alberto Del Rio.

She was starting to think she'd never really known this man at all. That nobody had.

Getting to his feet, he now looked slightly guilty again, as he added, 'I know I said I would not bother you again, but…I need to ask you a favour. Will you take Ricardo back to the hotel? There are some things I need to finish here.'

Frowning, Sharona replied, 'Well, sure, I could. But I was planning on walking-I left my car back at the hotel, it's like four blocks from here. But I don't want him walking with that bump to the head.' After a moment, she added, 'I can call a cab, no problem.'

With a shake of his head, Alberto reached into his pocket and handed her a set of keys. 'You can take my car.' He told her. 'I can walk back to the hotel.'

Sharona gaped down at the set of keys in her hand. The key ring had a Maserati logo, and she began to shake her head emphatically.

'There is no way I am taking your one hundred and forty thousand dollar-plus car out of this _arena_, much less anywhere else!' She exclaimed. 'Are you out of your _mind_?!'

Smirking, Alberto replied, 'Are you going to tell me you can't drive, _niña_? Last week, you told me you couldn't dance. That was a lie, also.'

Blushing furiously at the memory of that dance, she said, 'I can drive. But…it's a _Maserati_, man. That's not a car, it's a work of _art_.' Off the Mexican's amused look, she murmured, 'Not that I'm shallow or anything.'

Alberto chuckled, then, as his expression gradually became serious again, he told her, 'I don't care about the car. I just want Ricardo to be safe. I have some things to discuss with Booker T. And should that _perro_ Big Show decide to return…'

'He won't come back.' Sharona replied. 'That I can guarantee. He's afraid of that temper of yours.' With another glance at Alberto's car keys, she sighed and finally agreed, 'Fine. I'll take Ricardo to the hotel. And I'll get your car there in one piece.'

Alberto smiled, and Sharona felt her heart take a funny turn for the umpteenth time. The man was _far_ too good-looking for his own good.

Not to mention _hers_.

'_Muchas gracias_.' He told her. 'Drive safely. I'll see you soon.'

As Alberto headed in the direction of Booker T's office, Sharona walked to his locker-room. Ricardo was sitting on a chair, a trainer still giving him a once-over.

'Is he okay?' She asked, and the trainer started for a moment, then looked at her and nodded.

'Just a nasty bump, as far as I can tell.' He replied. 'No sign of a concussion. Still, he could do with getting out of here and getting some rest.'

Ricardo was beaming at her, an expression of gratitude and awe still on his face. It wasn't the look of someone who had a crush, but rather someone in the throes of hero worship.

And besides, if Ricardo, sweet as he was, _did_ have a crush, he'd be wasting his time.

Because she was more interested in his boss.

And, just like that, it hit her-she _was_ interested in Alberto. He certainly seemed to be making a genuine effort to change his ways, and had not pushed when she'd told him their dance had meant nothing, disappointed as he had obviously been.

Pushing the Mexican aristocrat out of her mind for the moment, she said, 'That's why I'm here. Alberto's asked me to take Ricardo back to the hotel.'

The trainer nodded. 'Good idea.' He replied, then turning to the ring announcer, he asked, 'You gonna be okay with this lady?'

Ricardo nodded eagerly. '_Si_.' He replied. 'No problem.'

As soon as the trainer was gone, Sharona said, 'Okay-you wanna grab your stuff and get out of here?'

Obediently, Ricardo grabbed his bag and a fresh ice pack, and the two walked up the corridor towards the exit. 'Are we going in your car?' He asked timidly, and Sharona shook her head. 'I left my car back at the hotel.' She told him. 'Was gonna walk there before all of this happened.' Without another word, she pulled Alberto's car keys from her pocket, and waved them at him, grinning.

Ricardo came to an abrupt halt, gaping at her. 'Wait.' He gasped. 'You are going to drive _Señor Del Rio_'s car?'

A little taken aback by his obvious astonishment, Sharona replied, 'He asked me to. I didn't wanna make you walk with that bump on your head, and I was gonna call you a cab, but then he asked me to take his car.' When he still didn't respond, she added, more sharply, 'Hey, look, I don't exactly feel comfortable driving Alberto's ridiculously expensive Italian car either, but he asked me to help, and I'm going to, okay? Now come on.'

She'd only gone a few steps when she heard Ricardo say quietly, 'He likes you.'

Sighing harshly, she rolled her eyes and muttered, 'Not you, too'. Out loud, she enquired, 'And what makes you say that?'

Ricardo was smiling broadly when she turned to face him. 'He must.' He told her. 'He never lets _anybody_ drive his cars.'

And for some strange reason, his words had a profound effect. Something as simple as Alberto entrusting one of his cars to her when he'd apparently never entrusted them to anyone else, made her feel all fluttery and giddy.

Which was utterly ridiculous-it was just a _car_.

_Right_, an inner voice intoned sarcastically. _Like it was just a __**dance**_.

Refusing to give in to that irritating mental voice, she shrugged and told Ricardo flippantly, 'I'm honoured. Let's go.'

Ricardo trailed behind her, the smile never leaving his face. It was clear that, like his employer and friend, Sharona was _muy terca_, but it was also clear to him that she was as attracted to Alberto as he undoubtedly was to her.

Maybe all they needed was a little push.

Sharona had told Alberto that she could drive, and while this was true, she was aware that she had never driven a Maserati before. True, she could afford one herself by now, but she'd never been the kind of woman to spend money unnecessarily.

Considering how much Alberto was supposedly worth, she guessed that spending money unnecessarily was not a problem for him.

And it truly _was_ a beautiful car.

Sharona and Ricardo climbed in, and she took a moment to admire the pale cream leather and wood finish interior, then finally started the engine, and the car seemed to purr under her hands as they pulled out into traffic.

'How's your head?' She asked the ring announcer, as much to break the silence as it was genuine concern.

'It's much better.' Ricardo replied quietly, before turning to look out of the window. '_Gracias_.'

Silence reigned again, but then, to Sharona's surprise, he suddenly said, 'Señor Del Rio…he's not…he's not a bad man. Not really.'

'I never said he was, man.' She told him. 'Though, I gotta admit, he hasn't exactly made it easy for people to think otherwise. All that 'everyone's a peasant' crap he used to spout? That's not gonna endear very many people, Ricardo.' A pause, and then she added, 'To say nothing of how he used to treat you.'

Ricardo seemed to dwindle a little at her words, but his voice was firm when he told her, 'El Patron, he is…passionate about this business. He comes from a wrestling family, and feels he still has much to prove. When things don't go right, he…he can get angry. Because I'm closest to him, that anger tends to be directed at me.' With a careful shrug, he ceded, 'And yes, in the past, he has been…less than generous with people. But he _is_ trying to better, _señorita_.'

'It's Sharona.' She said automatically, honestly shocked. This was the most she'd ever heard him say at once, other than his rather long introductions when announcing Alberto to the ring. 'I think we're past being formal now. And I get it-I know he's trying, man, but he needs to understand that the people aren't gonna accept him overnight, not after he's alienated them so much.'

As she pulled into the hotel parking lot, thanking her lucky stars that she'd managed to get both of them here safely, without damaging Alberto's car, Ricardo said softly, '_Si_. He knows that. We both do. Hopefully, the people will see his intentions are good.'

Getting out of the car, he grabbed his bag, then turned to Sharona with a smile, the smile widening when he saw that she had also got out and was carefully inspecting the vehicle. Caught, she shrugged and said, 'Just making sure it's in one piece. I promised him it would be.'

Ricardo nodded, then told her, 'Thank you, sen…_Sharona_. For your help. _Buenos noches_.'

'Whoa, whoa, _whoa_.' Sharona grabbed his arm before he could leave. 'I'm taking you to your room. _Then_ you can say goodnight.' Without waiting for him to protest or reply, she walked alongside him, Ricardo seemingly content to let her take charge.

Finally standing outside his hotel room, Ricardo reached for her hand. '_Muchas gracias_, Sharona.' He told her warmly. '_Buenos noches_.'

Sharona had to admit, as she walked to her own room, that this particular good deed felt pretty damn good. It had also felt pretty damn good to drive that gorgeous car.

Staring down at the keys clutched in her hand, she felt a tug at her heart, and impulsively made a decision.

She would give Alberto a chance. She would date him, if he still wanted to take her out. She would see where this went.

If he was willing to change, she was willing to meet him halfway.

She had just opened her room door, and was about to enter, when she heard very familiar derisive laughter behind her, and she leaned her head against the wall, closing her eyes.

Big Show _had_ left the arena-and had come straight here.

With a sigh, she turned to face the giant, refusing, as always, to show any intimidation.

'Wow.' She drawled sarcastically. 'Earlier, you attacked a ring announcer, and now you've decided to try stalking. Dude, you _seriously_ need to find a hobby that won't get you arrested or sued.'

With a chuckle, Paul Wight leaned in closer. 'I told you it wasn't over, Shar.' He replied, and she groaned.

'Not to mention,' she added. 'You need to get some fresh material.' Then, with a frown, she asked, 'How did you know I was here, anyway?'

Feigning surprise, Wight took a step back. 'You really haven't figured it out?' He responded. 'You're a smart girl, Shar-I gotta be honest with you, I thought you'd see right through it. Then again, I guess you've been too busy thinking about jumping Del Rio's bones to see the truth.'

Grinning now in the face of her anger and confusion, he went on, 'It was a pretty good plan on his part, though. Give you his car and the whole 'big hero' schtick, and tell you to protect his _best friend_. Then direct me right to the trap.'

As Sharona recoiled, the penny finally dropping, Wight concluded, sneering, 'Del Rio set you up, honey. He set you _both_ up.'…

**Next: This is yet another instance where one of my stories has veered off in a different direction than originally intended. So, was Albert's concern all an act? Has he actually deliberately sent Sharona and Ricardo into a trap like lambs to the slaughter, just as Sharona has faced up to her attraction to him? Tune in next time to find out-and please R&R! Thank you! : ) Ellen. **


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